


A Flaming Pedestal

by Fefenaamerica



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Beta Read, Eret Angst, Eret gets a hug, Eret-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Eretbrine, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Herobrine - Freeform, How Do I Tag, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insane Wilbur Soot, Multiple Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Respawn Mechanics, She/Her Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Suicide, Video Game Mechanics, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent, Wilbur Soot is not a good parent, eret needs a hug, mutations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29913843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fefenaamerica/pseuds/Fefenaamerica
Summary: Eret would never define it as either a blessing or a curse. As it was neither, and it was both. A power she could feel in her bones but never see through her eyes. Something she knew was there, and yet could never truly be. Or so she thought.OrEret herobrine go brrr, adoptions pog and anarchy through the eyes of someone that knows nothing of government.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Floris | Fundy, Eret & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Eret & Wilbur Soot, Technoblade & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	A Flaming Pedestal

Eret smiled at him, staring, only hope in her eyes for the future he’d get to have. Just a child with his father. Unruly curly hair and round glasses and a passion for the world no one else got to see. She could not help but stare in disbelief. Every day she would come by to their house, watch the fish swim in the pond, and a baby coo at his father. She would help and bring goods, and pastries and all she could think of to help. She would babysit and house sit all do all that she could. She watched as the father came home less and less, she watched as he snapped more and more. Long speeches of evolution and freedom, while sat on the couch eating food he didn’t make. She saw the shaky hands and worried for the eye bags. She cared for the little boy, just beginning to grow. The little boy that used to have a smile so huge, now only cried when his father came home.

“Wilbur, what are you doing?” she asked him.

“I want to provide for my child, of course!” he said, delighted, holding bottles upon bottles in his hands. Some were broken, others filled to the brim with a liquid she pretended not to recognize. She stared at him, after all the time she had spent caring for this family. This is what happens. 

“Maybe you should put the bottles down…” she pleaded, hoping to find the father in his eyes, finding only misery and clouded sight.

“You’re telling me to do something? I don’t even get to see my kid anymore! And I get it, I get it, I’m not the best father either. I scream and I yell, and I do drugs way too much,” the bottles start to shake as he moves around. Eret turns to Fundy’s crib, sitting right next to his father. Still sleeping somehow. “and I don’t know what I’m doing, and maybe I should leave. Maybe I should throw all these away and leave! That would be best, right, right?!”

He starts pacing around the small house. From the crib to the counter, the crib to the counter, around 3 feet between the two. And the bottles start to move, being held like a baby, about to fall. Eret could do nothing but watch, knowing that if she tried to intervene Fundy could be in danger. Wilbur’s pacing began to get faster and faster, he would stumble across the way. And that’s when she noticed, the small glint in his eyes, the way he stared at the crib. He was going to kill them all. 

She looked for the culprit, a small lighter, next to the crib. Just as Wilbur raised his arms in agony, dropping all the bottles, the mix of potions beginning to cloud Eret’s vision she grabbed the lighter and watched, as Wilbur slit his own throat.

For most, respawning was a standard procedure. You die, you respawn at your bed, and you do it over again. The most that could happen would be you would get a scar or two. But she didn’t have that privilege. 

For her entire life she would hear “just die and come back” and “it’s not a big deal”. At one point she could remember a time where it was painless. Where the peace from death was enough to compensate for all the pain that came as her heart began beating once again. At some point in her life, she can’t quite remember when. That all changed. Perhaps it was when she met  _ him.  _ The supposed god, the one all would bow to but not one would truly respect. After all, he had said; “Respect is nothing”. And he was right. Because respect was nothing as she burned in the altar that was meant to protect her. Respect was nothing as she felt every bone in her body contort and every scar begins to form. Respect was nothing as she felt the tears in her eyes begin to boil and burn her very soul. Thank goodness her eyes were gone for a mere second she was thankful for that gracious curse. Respect was nothing as that very same man took the one thing she could still be proud of. And gave it to one that would not even wake up. 

And yet she would be back at that very same place. She was stuck in the same pain of watching her home be wasted away by people she would never understand. They would take away everything that would make her whole. Her throne, disgraced and destroyed. Her clothes, thrown at her. The glasses that she swore to protect her, were crushed under their feet. All that she had ever cultivated and loved was thrown away; like rotten food at peasants in the streets. And she could do nothing but watch. The pain in her body revolting as she would beg them to help her, only to hear laughter through the specks of fire surrounding her. 

Through half-closed eyelids, and fuzzy thoughts she stepped off the platform. In an attempt to gain her strength again she tried to stand up. If only to stumble, she saw one of them reach. A slip of hope would pass through her but was soon overtaken by fear as she saw who it was. He grabbed her quickly, while she could not move. Panic slipped through her as he threw her over his shoulder. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Big props to my friend Sqish for helping edit and look over this. And thank you EMA chat for the words of encouragement!
> 
> This is just the first chapter that is why it's so short! 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed


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